


it's not a first date (someone else is cutting your skin)

by themikeymonster



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Addams Family Fusion, Blood and Gore, Foggy Gets Tortured, Foggy Has A Secret, Gen, M/M, Matt's More Upset About It Than Foggy, Torture As An Analogue To Sex, mostly implied - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 22:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4763756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themikeymonster/pseuds/themikeymonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Look, Matt's free to go backflipping off buildings and fighting thugs in alleys or whatever, but would it really kill Matt's enemies to learn a thing or two about using knives? And Foggy really requires at least <i>one date</i> before they go cutting his fingers off, honestly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's not a first date (someone else is cutting your skin)

**Author's Note:**

> At least one person was interested in reading more of this, so uploading this to AO3 so I can dump chapters/drabbles as I write. Originally found [here](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/4501.html?thread=8946069#cmt8946069). 
> 
> **Warnings**  
>  It's the fucking Addams Family. Foggy gets tortured. Matt undergoes severe stress due to it. Foggy's just bored to tears.

* * *

 

 

There is a man holding a knife to Foggy's hand. It's pretty clear what he means to do, really. Only - really?  
  
"Really," Foggy asks, plaintively, looking up at the guy who isn't even paying attention to him; Daredevil gets that distinction, standing stock still with his hands fisted so tight that his gloves are creaking. Of course, this isn't about Foggy, is it? "That's the way you're starting this? Chopping off my pinky finger?"  
  
The man takes exception to Foggy's tone, glancing down with a nasty little sneer and digging the blade into the skin of his finger. It's not even a serrated blade, Foggy notes with a tsk. Matt is snarling like the human face was actually meant to be shaped that way, and it's quite an impressive sight. Foggy's seen Matt angry before, but never quite this blatantly. Masks are freeing, he supposes.   
  
"Oh, come on," Foggy groans, looking back at the place where his skin is parting under the edge of the knife. Some silvery and sweet is singing up from the nerves there, something that could be pain if he let it - could be pleasure, too. He's not letting it be either, because - "Look, no offense, but bad boys aren't really my type."   
  
The villain flavor of the week - really, Matt goes through them fairly fast, but they also always get out of prison on a sort of regular rotation like there were cosmic forces invested in the process - snarls at him. It's significantly less impressive than Matt's snarls. Foggy generally likes snarls, too, but this particular one isn't doing anything for him. Flavor Of The Week grabs a handful of Foggy's hair and wrenches his head backwards and then presses down viciously on the knife.   
  
"Hey!" Foggy protests indignantly, "no hair pulling before the first date! And don't lose my finger, man, I need that back before Monday." It's not quite cut off, because Flavor Of The Week is as bad at knowing to do it at the joint as he is at sharpening his stupid knife. This is the worst torture session that Foggy's ever had the misfortune to sit though.   
  
Not that he has a lot of experience, exactly. Actually, he hasn't been tortured since his family brought in a tutor to sit him down and teach him what all the howl is for - so to speak. That had been at the hands of a master, too, so maybe he should lower his standards a bit.   
  
"Let him go," Matt snarls, and he's taken several steps forward but that only makes Flavor Of The Week snap "hu-uh" like Matt's a dog or something and hold the knife to Foggy's throat.   
  
Foggy's loud, bored sigh goes unacknowledged by both of them.  
  
"One more step and I'll skin the fatso's face off," Flavor Of The Week threatens, "cut his cheeks right off, maybe he'd lose some weight."  
  
"Whoa, hey," Foggy says, "is that really necessary? Look, I stopped at 'not my type' and didn't go into your frankly abhorrent personalty or yellow teeth or crooked nose, now did I? Granted, it gives your face a little personality, I mean, we can't all be underwear models and it'd be boring if we were -"  
  
"Shut the fuck up," Flavor Of The Week says, and he curls the knife and his thumb around Foggy's ears like he's going to peel it off like an orange skin.   
  
Foggy's slightly ashamed to admit that it catches his attention - but it does. In his defense, that's new. He's never had someone cut his ear off before and it could be fun. There's always the question if he'd rather experience it as pain or pleasure.   
  
_Not_ , he reminds himself sternly, at the hands of the Flavor Of The Week, though.   
  
Still, the edge of the knife is digging in, and his skin is parting around it with that same silky-cold sensation. That's just rude, isn't it? Cutting virgin skin without even a 'how do you do'?   
  
Matt quivers, and Matt shakes. Matt's red mouth is all white teeth. "If you don't stop, I will leave you only able to wish for death. You will regret that you ever set foot one in Hell's Kitchen, and that you ever heard even one whisper of my name," Matt says, only he doesn't so much say it as the words roll out of him like boiling pitch.   
  
This is going to become very awkward for Foggy here in a moment. He's usually not attracted to Matt much, anymore anyway, but. Well. There's a knife to his skin and Matt's sounding like that. And. Look, it was just going to be awkward here in a moment.   
  
"Shush," Foggy says at Matt because that's the only thing he might have control over. " _Down_ , Devil. I am a-ok over here - you can tell that, right? It's fine -"  
  
Apparently Flavor Of The Week does not agree to that, because that's the knife slicing into the cartilage of his ear and boy, that was going to be a bitch to heal. He's going to need stitches. Hopefully Hottie McBurnerphone isn't easily grossed out, but she's a nurse, right?   
  
The feeling of tepid metal cutting through skin and cartilage isn't exactly pleasant, but he doesn't want it to be. It just feels odd, and there's that same slightly chilled sensation of nerves being stimulated, and a bit of a hot trickle where the blood starts to flow down his neck. Foggy's not very worried about that. Even if this guy does his worst, it's unlikely he'll lose enough that his heart stops. He's tempted to yawn, but provoking Flavor Of The Week while Matt's standing there shaking and gnashing his teeth seems like a bad idea.   
  
Foggy wishes that Matt would just listen to his heart already and realize it's all fine. He doesn't particularly want to get stabbed, but it's an option and a single stab wound would be easier to heal than a bunch of chopped fingers and peeled skin.   
  
"Pesky little lawyer," Flavor Of The Week says disdainfully. Foggy thinks he should be screaming or crying, but he prefers to keep those kinds of performances to the bedroom with partners that ask politely for them, so he kinds of grimaces and looks around the warehouse out of boredom. "Maybe I should cut you lying tongue out, next, hmm?"  
  
"Oh," Foggy says, and he's probably being stupidly transparent at the moment, but - "Oh, no, please don't do that," he says, and is a bit disappointed with his own performance. He's usually a bit more convincing, but - "No, no, please no."  
  
Flavor Of The Week either believes his pathetic performance, or more likely suspects that Foggy's mocking him, because he sneers a bit and grapples with Foggy's face to get at his tongue. _Really_? Foggy thinks. Really? He's wasted his Saturday night for this? He could be out getting drinks with Karen.   
  
Foggy bites, of course. His teeth might be a bit sharper than they should be, because they cut through the metal of the knife and a bit of Flavor Of The Week so there is blood pouring over his tongue and then Matt is there and he's all over Flavor Of The Week, yanking him back and slamming him brutally to the floor.   
  
Matt might be the slightest bit ticked off, Foggy thinks as he chews the knife into tiny little shreds and swallows them - and the blood - down. Boy, forget a straw - Flavor Of The Week probably won't be able to walk after this and that's not because Matt has broken his legs or anything.   
  
Foggy's normally really, really against mundanes getting hurt, because people like him have to be so careful with them all the time - they break so easily. Even Matt would break easily, but he's made of sterner stuff so the logic follows that he needs to be kind and gentle, too.   
  
But this guy cut virgin skin and pulled Foggy's hair before the first date, and really, who does that? Foggy's never even really met anyone he wants to set a knife to his skin and pull his hair and put on a show of crying and begging about it for -   
  
Well, that's not entirely true, anymore, now is it, he thinks as Matt gets up and stalks over like he's going to pick a fist-fight with Foggy's wounds. He's seen a whole new, exciting side to Matt tonight. It's too bad Matt probably won't want any of the things Foggy's willing to do for him.   
  
"Hey, buddy," he says easily, "it's fine, I'm okay."   
  
"You're _okay_ ," Matt echoes in disbelief, and it sounds like he's been chewing glass, like it's got all embedded in his gums and on his tongue, like he can slit a man's throat with words alone. "I can smell your blood."  
  
"Oh, yeah," Foggy agrees, watching Matt hover over him for a second before figuring out how he's been attached to the chair and tearing at the zip ties with angry fingers. "I'm a bit cut up, but I'm okay. Remember when I told you I'm not exactly normal?"   
  
Matt has strength or rage enough to snap the zip ties with his fingers without even bruising Foggy's skin. He's frazzled, Foggy can tell, his rage and worry sputtering without direction. He's kneeling in front of the chair that Foggy's sitting on, and he fumbles up for Foggy's hand, which is bleeding everywhere from a cut that goes to the bone and has chipped it but nothing worse. The confused purse of his lips makes Foggy imagine the wrinkled brow that usually goes with it, even if his helmet is hiding most of his face. "In college?" He finally ventures uncertainly.   
  
"Yeah," Foggy agrees, and is taken aback at the warmth pooling in his chest like he's taken a knife to the heart and it's spilling all over him and staining his shirt for everyone to see. It feels like blood and smoke and silk inside his ribs and over his skin, hot and sticky and metallic. It feels like adoration. _Oh no_ , he thinks faintly. "Yeah, back in college. I tried to tell you about me, but you started freaking out and wouldn't listen."   
  
"Oh," Matt says weakly. "Oh. I. I already knew so much, Foggy - like when you were lying, so -  
  
"Uh huh," he agrees easily, guessing the rest: Matt hadn't wanted to know any more of Foggy's secrets when Matt wouldn't tell him his own. "Well," he says, "this is part of it. I can get hurt really badly but it doesn't actually hurt me. I mean, it can - I can let it, if I want to. But it's just nerves. Electrical impulses, you know?"  
  
"Oh," Matt says again, a bit slowly. He seems to be emboldened by the words because his fingers curl over and touch gingerly at the edges of the deep wound on Foggy's finger. It's feather light, teasing along the edges, Matt's fingers against his wound and his blood sucking up under his nails and the whorls of his calloused skin, and there is lightening sparking from that point of contact straight up Foggy's arm and into the tangled mess of his chest and - oops.   
  
"Yeah," he says, and clears his throat. "Still, it doesn't heal on its own, you know, so maybe we could make a visit to your cute nurse friend?"   
  
Matt grasps at the offer to action and gets to his feet. He seems bent on treating Foggy like an invalid, pulling him up carefully from the chair and crowding him a bit as they shuffle off toward the exit. Foggy suspects Matt's just still in shock, really. He doesn't know how Matt's going to react after it's finally soaked in that his best friend is a little less destructible than the others.   
  
And - just maybe - if he gets used to the idea, Foggy can find out what Matt's opinions on torture are. 

**Author's Note:**

> Despite what this sounds like, Matt's too fucking vanilla to hurt Foggy - even though it doesn't actually _hurt_ Foggy. Because it's _Foggy_. Torturing is reserved for bad guys, and Matt only enjoys it in a righteous 'got what you deserve' way.


End file.
